How to logic it up with style
by CraZYdUCKIE
Summary: An extra ten minutes makes all the difference... Harry does the Triwizard Tournament without Hermione's assistance. Is he screwed? Probably. Will it be amusing to watch? Definitely. Come and join the fun.
1. Logic

_Think logically, for once in your life!_

The words echoed around Harry's mind. Hermione had stormed off minutes ago and he was still sitting here, thinking about what she had said.

A week to go to the first task and Harry had been so frantic that he'd actually scared away his best friend.

_Think logically…_

Maybe if Hagrid hadn't brought him to see the dragons, Harry wouldn't be so freaked out, but in truth the giant lizards worried him more than he could say. He supposed if he hadn't stayed the extra ten minutes and watched one of the dragon keepers get fried, he wouldn't be this worried, but all he could think about was how they were _professionals_ and they _still _got really badly injured.

_Think logically…_

He sat bolt upright. If the task was to somehow capture the dragon, then he didn't have a chance in hell, but if it was to procure something or get past it… all he wanted was to be able to get out of there alive. If the dragon didn't see him…

_I love logic._

**The day of the first task**

Hermione was really worried; Harry hadn't said a word about the Tournament since their fight and she had to assume that he didn't have any ideas.

Back in the tent, Harry was grinning cheerfully while the rest of the champions were nervous. Fleur was hyperventilating, Cedric was pacing and Victor's left eye was twitching like mad.

"Calm down guys, it'll be fine," he told them, smiling. All he received were cast-iron glares.

At that point, Bagman entered the tent, along with the school masters and a large purple bag. "Your task is to capture the golden egg in the dragon's nest," he announced. "Whichever dragon you draw will determine the order of your task."

Cedric drew the Swedish Short-snout and went first. Fleur picked the Welsh Green and went second while Victor drew the Chinese Fireball and went third. Which left the Hungarian Horntail for Harry; he just smiled pleasantly and wished the other champions well.

Fleur resumed her hyperventilating and Victor sat down and began twitching again while Cedric went out to face the dragon. Harry pulled a deck of muggle cards from his bag and began playing solitaire.

"What eez dat?" asked Fleur, tilting her head to look.

"It's solitaire," Harry informed her. "Do you want me to show you how to play?"

The girl nodded enthusiastically and Harry began showing her how to set the cards up. She learned the rules swiftly, even winning a game herself before Cedric returned to the tent. "Oh, eez it my turn?" she inquired, anxiety forgotten. She went out to face the Welsh Green while Harry dealt the cards for a new game.

Time passed quickly after that as Harry played a few hands of gin with Cedric and Victor took his turn in the arena. Fleur returned singed but triumphant and duplicated Harry's cards to make a set for herself. "I will enjoy zis game very much, thank you Harry. Will you teach me others?"

"Sure, I'll teach you how to play gin. It's pretty fun; I was just playing it with Cedric actually," Harry indicated the boy on the bed. Victor walked back in. "Oh, it's my turn. Well, how about Cedric teaches you- I'll be back in a jiffy."

The boy strolled out of the tent and waved to the judges' panel. Dumbledore waved back.

The dragon was eyeing him warily, but hadn't made a move to attack. Harry grinned and began the complex wandwork required for a notice-me-not charm. When he was finished, the judges' eyes were watering with the effort of still looking at him and the dragon was ignoring him.

Harry wandered over to the nest and performed the same charm on the egg, easily picking it up and walking away from the dragon. Standing in front of the panel, he cancelled both charms and grinned at them.

Dumbledore blinked away his teary eyes. _Less than a minute and he's got the egg_. _No damage, no injuries, no aggravating the dragon…_ The Hogwarts professor joyfully awarded his student ten points. Madam Maxine copied him, as did Crouch and Bagman. Karkaroff gave him a grudging six and Harry winked at him, and then casually walked back into the tent.

"Where was I? Oh yes, gin," he continued, settling back down in his chair.

Fleur leaned forward. "I understand zee collection of duplicate cards, but I do not understand the concept of a 'run'; why must they be in the same suit?"

Harry grinned and began to explain.

**A week before the second task**

Harry sat on the edge of the Prefect's bath, pondering. _Well, they wouldn't actually let anybody die if they got put at the bottom of the lake; I bet there's a charm on them. I could go rescue the 'person I care most about'- or_, and at this he grinned, _I could do nothing. Nothing will happen to them and I don't want to win this stupid competition anyway_.

**The day of the second task**

The champions were lined up along the deck. "Harry, as you've got the highest score, you get to go first," Bagman told him. Harry nodded and at Bagman's whistle, he stood up from his diving position, stretched and then dunked a hand in the water.

"That's freezing!" he exclaimed. "I'm not going in there!"

M,

With that, he conjured a deck chair and lay down on it, pulling a pair of sunglasses from his bag and stretching out comfortably. He placed his hands behind his head and, to all appearances, fell asleep.

"Er- Harry," interjected Dumbledore. Harry twitched the glasses up.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Don't you need to get into the lake?"

Harry blinked and sat up. The other champions had already dived in and he was the only one left. "I suppose you're right."

The boy stood, flexing impressively as he drew his wand.

Dumbledore sat back in satisfaction.

Harry, instead of going anywhere near the water, stood back a little as he twitched his wand.

"_Accio extrico_ hostages," he cried, waving his wand in the pattern of an _accio_ spell. He looked back when he was finished, though still holding the wand towards the lake. "It's a variant of the accio spell," Harry explained. "I was going to use it to get my broom out of my trunk in the first task, but I had a better idea instead. It frees the object from anything holding it back and then summons it."

At that moment, with a mighty splash, the four hostages burst from the water and Harry guided them to land softly on the deck. "Oh, I seem to have gotten all of them. Would you like me to put the others back?" he asked politely.

Dumbledore shook his head numbly while Bagman announced, "And Harry Potter has triumphed in the second task as well! He has brought back not one, not two, not three but _four _of the required objects!"

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione were sitting up and blearily shaking their heads while some little French girl was cursing like a sailor. Cho Chang was whining about how she was wet and at that, Harry conjured towels for the lot of them. Dumbledore conjured some hot chocolate for the five of them and the judges numbly gave Harry all tens, apart from Karkaroff who awarded him five.

Ten minutes later, Fleur emerged, held up by mermen and terribly scratched. She gasped in pleasure as she saw her sister safe, but sighed as she noticed the other hostages. "Zis means zat I have come last?"

Harry shook his head and replied easily, "No, I'm the only one that's back. I think they're doing it by how long it takes them to get back now, since I took all the hostages."

"Ah," she replied with dignity. "Gin?"

"Indeed," Harry acquiesced. They sat on a dry part of the deck, Fleur with a towel around her shoulders.

Ron and Hermione were earnestly discussing their kidnapping and Gabrielle was chatting with Cho.

About fifteen minutes after that, Cedric emerged, looking furious. "I got to the bloody mermish city and all they did was point me back to the surface!"

Harry conjured him a towel and gestured for him to join their game, which he did as Harry explained. After a while, the Hufflepuff relented and the three enjoyed their card game for a while. Fleur was ridiculously good at it for a newbie, shaming Harry and Cedric into frustration.

Twenty minutes after Cedric, Victor struggled out of the water, still shaking off his shark self-transfiguration.

The final scores were 45 for Harry, 35 (for the difficult Transfiguration) for Victor, 25 for Cedric and 15 for Fleur (even though she was caught by Grindylows, she later claimed that she knew the hostages were gone and claimed points of the basis that she was returned the fastest). This left Harry firmly in the lead, despite not having even entered the water.

**A week before the third task**

_Think logically_…

Harry was sitting alone in a classroom, as had become his habit. _Well, points-wise, I don't actually_ need_ this task. The only way that anybody else could win is if Victor gets to the trophy first, but I'm willing to take that chance. I'm not risking my life! _

**The day of the third task**

As before, Harry was called first and conjured a deck chair to lie on.

"Er- Harry?" Dumbledore inquired.

Cedric entered the maze.

"Yes, Professor?"

Victor entered the maze.

"Harry, don't you need to go into the maze?"

Fleur entered the maze.

Harry drew a book from his bag titled 'Card tricks: becoming a true magician.'

"No, actually. Whatever goes on in there doesn't affect my points lead, so I'm not going in."

Harry flipped to the bookmark in the third chapter and began practicing the creative shuffling.

"Are you sure about this, Harry?" Dumbledore pressed.

"Absolutely," he replied, not looking up. "Look what I can do!"

He flipped the cards into an arch and then collapsed it, easily shuffling them. "I could never do that before," Harry admitted. "The pile would always flick out and go everywhere."

"Right."

Harry had time to master a vanishing card trick before Victor stumbled out of the maze with a glazed look in his eyes. The Durmstrang champion sent a dark curse at Harry, which Dumbledore deflected while Harry stunned the boy.

"Okay, that was a little weird. Why did he do that?"

Dumbledore stood thoughtfully over the stunned champion, pausing before he spoke. "By all appearances, Mr Krum was under the imperious curse. Once Mr Diggory has returned, we will check the wands of all staff members surrounding the maze for the Unforgivable curse. Is that acceptable to the other judges?"

They acquiesced uneasily, the spectators humming with nervous energy and gossip.

At that moment, Cedric appeared at the opening of the maze, clutching the trophy. "The trophy went to this weird graveyard at first, so I grabbed it again and portkeyed back here," he exclaimed, clearly disturbed. "Was it supposed to do that?"


	2. In the graveyard

Wormtail tapped his foot impatiently. _When is that bloody portkey going to get here?_

"Wormtail," demanded a cruel voice. "Where is the boy?"

He quavered. "I don't know, my Lord. The portkey should have arrived by now."

The dark bundle sneered, Wormtail could hear it. "This is no doubt due to some incompetence on your part, rat. _Crucio!" _

A full five minutes later, the bundle lifted the curse and prodded his servant experimentally. "Damn it, I think he's gone brain dead." The bundle shifted slightly, clearly examining its surroundings.

Dogs howled in the near distance.

The bundle started to tremble. "Wormtail, get me out of here!"

The lump next to it twitched slightly, and then slumped completely.

"Blast."

The next morning, the villagers of Little Hangleton went to investigate the graveyard, having heard strange noises emanating from there the night before.

All they discovered was a pile of torn rags and the remains of what looked like a baby.


	3. Firewhiskey makes everything better

"So, um… I had a chat with Dumbledore and he thinks that the Tournament, the whole disguised Moody thing and Cedric going to that graveyard may be related to somebody trying to kill me." Harry scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. "We figure it's old Voldy back, _again_. Professor Dumbledore reckons that he may have built some kind of soul container to keep him immortal, only he's obviously made a few of them because apparently the diary I destroyed in second year was one as well and the bastard came back again after that."

Hermione mentally reviewed everything she knew about souls and came to the conclusion that the rituals to create them were very powerful and extremely Dark. She gasped accordingly.

Harry's redheaded friend just rubbed his nose and asked sharply, "And Dumbledore just told you all this?"

The wizard chuckled awkwardly. "I told him that if he didn't explain to me exactly how Voldemort kept coming back, I would go find him and ask him myself."

"So my plan worked then," noted Ron, grinning.

Harry bowed his head in a show of mock respect. "Oh great and wise Weasley, do tell of your wonderful plan."

"Well," Ron began, putting on a show of arrogance of a nearly Malfoy scale. "You see, Mr Potter, Dumbledore clearly knew something that he wasn't keen on telling."

"Yes, yes, we knew that already," Hermione interrupted impatiently.

Ron conjured a pipe and puffed at it thoughtfully before he continued. "While I myself was still extremely irritated at my dearest friend, having been goaded into jealousy by Malfoy earlier."

Harry snickered lightly at his friend's play-acting.

"I wanted Harry to finally know what he needed to do, because every time we only knew a little bit of information, we would spend an entire year working the thing out with Harry always taking the glory at the end- oh, and nearly being killed, of course. It occurred to me that we could stop the whole damn process if I just asked Professor Dumbledore what was happening before we did anything stupid in fifth year."

"We don't spend an enti-" Hermione began, then stopped. "Oh. We do tend to spend an entire year working on this crap, don't we? And Dumbledore always knows anyway- with the Stone, about Tom Riddle and even about Sirius being an animagus. We could have saved so much time!"

Ron nodded regally, puffing on his pipe. Harry conjured him a matching detective hat and Ron grinned his approval. "Indeed. Naturally, however, Harry is Dumbledore's favourite and he wouldn't trust me with such information; thus I created a cunning plan with which I would, in an incredibly sneaky and clever way, determine the nature of Harry's quest."

"It's hardly a quest," protested Harry.

"Of course it's a quest, Harry- hidden magical artefacts, a hero with special powers and the fate of the world. You can't get much more quest-y than that," Hermione told him briskly. "Could you get to the end of the story, Ron?"

Ron puffed at his pipe (which was empty, incidentally, but made him feel like a real detective) and continued. "So I told Harry my plan and then hurried off to enact stage one. I waited with the Marauder's Map until Dumbledore was about to exit his office and then strolled past with Harry, exclaiming loudly about how I was so surprised to hear about how he wanted to transfer to Beauxbatons in order to escape all the shenanigans that happened here. Harry, of course, immediately explained that he would need a really good explanation of why all this crap keeps happening for him to stay here. I pipe up with a joke about Harry visiting Voldemort for the information and then Harry just sort of stops and goes really still… brilliant acting there, by the way."

Harry shrugged modestly.

"Anyway, Dumbledore races back into his office and we go back to the Gryffindor common room. I give Harry a really good pep talk and then he goes out to confront the Headmaster."

Hermione blinked. "_That_ was your brilliant, conniving plan?"

"What did you expect?" Ron asked, clearly offended. "Simplicity meant that it was unlikely to go wrong and it wasn't like something big and complicated would have worked better."

The bushy-haired Gryffindor just looked amused.

"I thought it was a great plan," defended Harry. "Especially since it only took about ten minutes to complete, including Dumbledore telling me everything."

Hermione shrugged. "Whatever. In the meantime, how do we plan to get rid of these- what are they called?"

"Whore-crotches, apparently."

"Right," Hermione replied sceptically. "How to we plan to dispose of them?"

Ron fiddled idly with his pipe. "If we're going for the simplistic approach…"

**Half an hour later**

"Dumbledore's office is clear," Hermione announced, not looking up from the Marauder's Map.

Harry and Ron leapt into action, sprinting up the spiral staircase and bursting into the office with speed. Within moments, the sword of Gryffindor was retrieved, along with the Sorting Hat, Fawkes and a previous Headmaster's portrait that had perked up at their mangled use of the word 'Horcrux.'

The three gathered in an empty classroom to review. "We're sure that this will work?" Harry asked nervously.

"Of course," Hermione replied reassuringly.

Ron just mentally reviewed the plan. "We're sure about the house elves?"

Harry nodded.

"We're sure about the sword?"

"It's an incredibly ancient and powerful weapon, if it can't do it then nothing can."

"Alright then."

Their plan was actually quite logical. Piece by piece, their solutions made sense, but when you added it into a whole picture, the plan looked totally insane. On the other hand, insane solutions work most of the time, so they may as well in this particular instance.

Making their way to the Great Hall, the trio took places on top of the Head Table during the feast involving the three schools that were still here.

"Ladies and Gentleman, your attention please," called Ron. Harry was actually supposed to do this bit, but he had blushed and backed out at the last minute. "Would you please link arms in a giant circle on the grounds? There is an event that needs to occur _tonight_," he announced, stressing the last word. At that, the eyes of the student population glazed over and they moved to do his bidding while the teachers simply fell asleep in their chairs.

"Well, at least we know that the house elves did their bit properly," Hermione murmured to Harry as they followed the stream of students onto the great rolling front lawn of Hogwarts. "I really didn't expect such an illegal, mind-controlling substance to be so easy to brew…"

Enhancing his voice with a 'sonorous,' the youngest male Weasley instructed the group. "At the red fireworks, you are all to cast the 'accio' spell pointing outside the circle. You will be Summoning an object called a 'Horcrux.' Do you understand?"

The crowd nodded in unison. Hermione, Harry and Ron joined the outwardly-facing circle, linking arms but leaving their hands free for wandwork. Ron shot red fireworks into the air.

"Accio Horcrux," intoned the three schools, the combined voices becoming a wave of sound that washed across the Isles with their magic. The trio stepped out of the circle, linking the arms of the people to fill the gap. Harry drew Gryffindor's sword and held it aloft while Ron and Hermione stayed alert for any flying objects.

Within a moment, a gaudy black ring had fallen from the sky, which Harry dispatched swiftly. Thirty seconds after that, an overly shiny tiara appeared; it was only with Hermione's intervention that the headpiece didn't kill Harry, with the speed it was moving. About a minute after that came an ostentatious cup, an awkwardly sized locket and the ruined diary, both needing timely intervention to allow their destruction.

Harry took a quick stocktake on the items in the circle. "Five. Do you think that's it?"

Hermione noticed that Harry was gravitating towards the centre of the circle and became very still as her mind worked furiously.

"What is it, Hermione?" Ron called. The witch simply pointed to her black-haired friend, knowing that the redhead would understand.

He stared questioningly for a few moments, and then froze as he got it.

"Damn." He said simply.

Harry was ignoring both of them, trying to work out if there was anything else.

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, and then strode over to her friend. Ron joined her, clasping her hand for comfort. The pretty witch had tears welling up into her eyes and Ron was blinking rather more profusely than normal.

"Harry," Hermione said gently. He looked up with a smile, which quickly fell when he saw their sombre expressions. "Look at where you are."

"I'm in the middle, so what?"

"You began on the side, not the centre," Ron told him.

Harry still didn't understand.

"You can speak to snakes, Harry. Nobody in your family could do it; only Voldemorts' family. Only his blood."

Harry was starting to get a really bad feeling but refused to acknowledge what his gut was trying to tell him.

"So?"

Ron sighed deeply. "You've been getting visions all year and in first year, you'd get a pain in your scar whenever you looked at Quirrell."

"Who we later discovered was Voldemort," added Hermione, to make their point perfectly clear.

"So?" he was being aggressively stubborn now.

"So you're a Horcrux, you dumb berk!" Ron finally cried, his voice becoming hoarse from suppressed emotion.

Harry blinked at them.

"So what am I supposed to do?"

Hermione drew him into a chest-crushing hug, sobbing into his shoulder. Ron just stared. "You know what needs to be done, Harry."

Harry took a deep breath, pushing his friend away. He stepped slightly closer to Ron. "Will you do it for me?"

Ron looked deep into his best friend's eyes and replied in a whisper, "yes."

The redhead raised his wand while Hermione looked on in terror. "No, Ron, you can't!" Seeing that she was about to interfere, Harry twitched his wand and she was immobile. He didn't take his eyes from Ron.

"Do it now, before I regret."

"I love you Harry. Not in a gay way or anything, but- I love you. You're my brother."

"I love you too Ron."

"Avada Kedavra." It was the single hardest thing he'd ever done, summoning the rage to do it properly.

Hermione was weeping silent tears of rage, finally fighting off her body-bind to join Ron in sobbing over their friend's body.

Moments later, they both thought they'd cracked when they felt Harry moving beneath them. "You're alive," declared Hermione jubilantly as the boy cracked open an eyelid. Ron just sobbed mindlessly into his friend's shoulder.

"Yup," croaked Harry.

Ron suddenly sat up and punched Harry in the shoulder. "You son of a bitch, why did you make me do that?" Harry winced and his friends immediately pulled him into the tightest group hug he had ever encountered.

They stood up and banished the destroyed Horcruxes into the lake, suddenly remembering the presence of the zombie-like student body.

"How long until that confounding potion wears off, Hermione?"

The witch shrugged. "Ask the elves. In the meantime, how about we get everybody inside?"

"I reckon if we just get everybody drinking Firewhiskey, they'll all just think this was some kind of stupid party event and not an extremely illegal mass mind control ritual," noted Ron. He cast another sonorous and told everybody to go inside and party, an order they all took to with enthusiasm.

For their part, the trio went to the Tower and bed, and when questioned the next morning over what had happened the night before, truthfully replied that they had gone to bed at the start of the party. When asked about the scorch marks on the lawn, the Durmstrang ship on the roof and the Beauxbatons carriage in the lake, they simply shrugged.

Hermione had the brilliance to wink at the Weasley twins as they asked, after which they followed her around worshipfully; she had never been so smugly evasive in her life.


End file.
